


Courting Death

by Ashby



Series: Courting Death [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Cool mod of Peter's story arc, Lots and Lots of Death, Peter falls in love with Death, Right?, and he's doing it all for love, because love, believable within canon, but it is ok, just kinda twisting it, poor bastard, right - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashby/pseuds/Ashby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw this prompt from <a href="http://twobearsforever.tumblr.com/post/72034187356">twobearsforever:</a><br/>MOVIE ABOUT A PERSON WHO FALLS IN LOVE WITH DEATH AND CONTINUOUSLY COMMITS MURDER IN ORDER TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH THEM UNTIL DEATH IS FINALLY LIKE “YOU ARE MAKING MY JOB SO MUCH MORE DIFFICULT THAN IT NEEDS TO BE LETS JUST GO OUT FOR A COFFEE OR SOMETHING JESUS FUCK”</p><p>And I thought, Peter Hale because… Teen Wolf…</p><p>I regret nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is an addendum to Season one and two of Teen Wolf. It references moments in the show while it follows Peter's story. 
> 
> Thanks to sarcasticchick for my tags.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Depictions of Death.

Those who see death’s true face are captivated. They either go willingly into her embrace or are trapped like prey, unable to escape her gaze. Some manage to elude her for a time but no one can outrun her forever. 

Part 1: Meeting Death

The first time Peter sees her was in the deepest, darkest stretch of forest when he was 8 years old. Instead of staying behind with his aunt and younger siblings on the night of the full moon, he followed his eldest brother out into the forest where the sounds of prowling wolves reached him from time to time as the pack ran and hunted while their power was at its strongest. A stray scent crossed their paths, causing Mark to tear after it with a snarl as his bloodlust peaked with the moon’s shining fullness. 

Ever adept at staying out of sight and following at a distance, Peter went unnoticed by the hulking form stalking its prey in the light of the moon. He could not help but feel invincible with its radiant glow on his skin. He stopped to drink it all in while every sense amplified into sharp focus. His anchor had always been the moon itself, ever changing but constant in it’s change. His was an unrequited love, bittersweet and lonely and ever unreachable. He could chase her forever but could never convince her to be more generous with the power she gave him. 

Mark’s howl broke through his thoughts. Weaving through the trees more like a snake than the wolf that was his birthright, he came upon a small clearing accented by several large boulders. The sharp tang of blood hit him before he saw the hunter sprawled on the ground. His brother clearly hadn’t wasted any time dispatching his foe before moving on to rendezvous with the rest of the pack. Peter was drawn into the clearing by the broken man’s stuttering heartbeat and gurgling breaths but a strange presence halted his movement. He shifted back behind one of the hulking rocks as a hooded figure melted out of the dark to kneel in front of the dying man whose heartbeat tripled its effort to beat right out of the wound in his chest. The dark figure reached out a steady hand to lightly touch the man’s shoulder, stilling him instantly. The hunter’s heart stopped as his breath left him and his scent changed abruptly to the pungent finality of death; it was the same smell cancer patients carry as their illness draws death ever closer. 

A breeze coursed through the clearing, pulling at the robes of the black figure until its hood fell away revealing silvery moonlit hair and what most would describe as the face of an angel. In that moment, her radiance captivated him body and soul and Peter forgot about the moon entirely. She looked up to the sky, then, as if to blame it for blowing off her hood. In one fluid motion she rose to her feet, gracefully drawing her hood up over her head to block away all her beauty.

Peter felt the loss of it immediately. He came out of his crouch behind the boulder just as she melted back into the shadows. Her mastery of the darkness was too great. He could not follow this loveliness, this great lady, this… angel of death. 

He felt a shift under his own skin as he knelt to the ground where she last stood. He fought to control his wolf, throwing his gaze up to the moon. A tear fell from his eye as he realized the moon was no longer his anchor. For when he closed his eyes, he saw the face of death… and it was the moon of his life. 

-

He did not see her for several years, though he chased her in his dreams. There were a few times he thought he felt her near, just to smell death on another. There was never a moment when he wasn't missing her. He kept to the shadows in an attempt to be near her. His obsession changed him. His mind was always on her and how he could see her again. The only conclusion he could see was to orchestrate a death and be nearby when she appeared. Nothing could stand in his way of seeing her again and eventually he convinced himself that every opportunity should not be wasted. 

And so, after waiting 10 more years (as the wolf lives), he saw her again; this time in a storm shelter under the great tree. His nephew clutched the body of a dying girl in a tangle of roots lit by the moonlight as it peeked in from the holes above his head. Derek had eyes for no one but his Paige as he attempted to take her pain. Peter lay in wait as the girl started to lose her battle with the bite Ennis had given her. 

Then she appeared as his dear nephew and his girl exchanged their parting words of love. Death hovered out of sight of the lovers, reaching out one porcelain finger to release Paige of her pain and life. As she did so, she lay a gentle hand on Derek’s bowed head, he gasped out a sob, blinking as his eyes cooled from amber to steel-blue. 

A ray of moonlight passed over Death’s face for a brief moment as she shook her head over this sadness. She closed her eyes and drew back into the darkness once more.

...and once more Peter felt the elation of seeing his love, stagnate as the wrenching pain of her absence fell back into place. 

-

He glimpsed her many times over the next few years, following his instincts near enough to carnage but never close enough to be in danger himself. It all seemed to be in vein, though, for never did her hood fall away to reveal her again. He ached to see her, to talk to her, to… well it didn’t matter if she was never anywhere for more than a moment. 

One night, she lingered far longer than a moment. 

The fire raged unholy carnage all over the Hale home that night. The mountain ash barrier held in all who were inside, dooming them to their fates. Their screams pierced the air as the heat seared and ripped through everything. 

That night, she came. The flames did not touch her. She floated from person to person, relieving them of their suffering lives. She paused as she drew near to Peter. He was the last left alive, being the farthest from the flames. Her hood fell away as she considered him. The moment he saw her face, his pain melted away. All that existed was her radiant gaze. Those eyes that reach into one’s soul and determine your fate. His determination flared. He was not going to die that day. He lived only for her. 

She drew back her hand, inches from taking his life, closing her eyes and nodding as she backed away. He attempted to reach out to her as she faded away into the shadows cast by the roaring blaze of his home. He keened his loss through an ash choked throat before slipping into oblivion. 

-

Life was a haze. A dense fog surrounded his every memory. He chased shadows around in dreams. Time was lost to him. 

-

Slowly, life came back to him. Memories slid (more or less) into place until his determination came back to him. He needed to see her again… and it seemed convenient that there were people that needed to be dead. 

-

His strength returned very slowly. At first only the full pull of a full moon could grant him the strength to move. When the moon withdrew it’s power, so did the bindings that held together his thoughts. He faded in and out till madness overtook him. He was blind to all except his drive to gain power in order to carry out vengeance. He was sure he would be rewarded for his role as Death’s Fury by seeing her again.


	2. Greeting Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death changes Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one follows season one and the beginning of season 2 of Teen Wolf.

Part 2: Greeting Death

It actually wasn’t that hard to track down those responsible for the fire. His lunatic mind was able to piece together a plan while he waited for his body to come back. Each full moon gave him the window he needed to start hacking away at his laundry list of those eluding justice. 

The first few, he dispatched in much the same manner his brother, Mark, did all those years ago. Giving himself time to hide and watch for her. Each moment was so fleeting as she appeared, touched, and melted away. 

It was all taking too long, and a few of the people responsible for the fire were going to be difficult to expire. He needed more power….

A new plan formed in his mind. 

-

Laura lay on the ground. He could hardly believe his plan had worked, quite unfortunate that his own niece had to die but he could see it was entirely worth it.

She appeared out of the dark and floated over to the 2 halves of Laura’s body, placing a hand on each part briefly before turning toward him. He fell to his knees in front of her as she pulled back her hood to study him. She was as fair as ever with her porcelain features wreathed in silvery moonlit hair and her eyes that contain the universe. They looked deep inside him just before she ran her fingers through his hair. 

Her touch sent a cool spark of energy through him and he instantly remembered that day in the root cellar when she had turned Derek’s eyes blue. He was certain his own eyes would match his nephew’s now if his own were not the blaze of Alpha red. So intent was he on the memory she unleashed, he actually managed to miss her fading back into the darkness. The rush of Alpha power had him almost as drunk as his newest vision of the Moon of his life. He reached up to run his own fingers through his hair, trying to recall the feather-light touch as soft as a breeze that had touched him a moment before. 

-

Each of his next victims of justice did not give him the satisfaction of seeing his beloved as he had so desired. The only thing he could think to draw her gaze was to gain more power; a feat easily done by an alpha, by making a pack. 

Perhaps it would have been easier if he had all of his faculties. He was still waxing and waning with the moon; a fact that aggravated him greatly as his first beta resisted his pull. 

Who should come to visit him now, at his moment of need, but his own nephew? 

After a short brawl (that dispatched his helpful nurse, in the process) and a discussion, that involved implanting certain memories in his nephew to bring the boy around to his side of the argument, Peter could feel their power growing again as Derek took up his quest for vengeance. 

-

One evening, after Derek had been captured by hunters, Peter needed a few key chess pieces put in their proper places. 

Just the girl he was hoping for walked out onto the Lacrosse pitch. He promptly claimed his right to her abilities by setting claws deep in her side. Everything was falling into place, just as the boy he was hoping for ran screaming out on the green, skidding to a halt just short of the two of them. This boy could find Derek, and he had the perfect leverage to use.

-

Finally. At long last he could have his revenge on the woman who killed his entire family. He had her throat firmly by the claws as her niece begged for this murderer’s life. Kate’s heartbeat ran as only her feet could not while her feeble apology fell from her lips. Unmoved by her empty words, he ripped the life from her throat. Peter knew it would draw her near but he still had others to take care of as his traitorous nephew and first beta came to the aid of the crying girl in front of him. 

He could feel the Moon of his life nearby as he fought for his life and his right to his betas’ fealty. Her presence was distracting as she lingered after releasing Kate. She followed the battle outside, concealed in the shadows and unseen by everyone except for his adoring eyes. The moment she lowered her hood once more, his attention was all on her. It was a fatal mistake; an opening the boy of fate and the rich one embraced by setting him on fire once again. The pain was nothing because she was there. He stumbled as he made his way over to where she stood. The blaze in his flesh brought him back to his human form just as he fell at her feet. 

Derek came to stand over Peter, then, contemplating his next move. 

“You’ve made your decision. Do it!” Peter’s words were not for his nephew, however. They were directed to the one hovering over his head, her radiant face looked quizzical but calm and tender as she waited for Derek to choose his path.

The slash to his throat felt deserved for taking Laura’s life. It was not the last thing Peter felt, though. His beloved’s hand at his temple was the only thing that mattered before he drifted again into oblivion. 

-

This oblivion was different than the fog of existence after the Hale fire. He felt the vast void of the universe and all the energy it contained. When he next opened his eyes, his entire being seeped out of the darkness like molasses. Surely he would finally get to talk to the Moon of his life now that she had divested him of the weight of living it. 

She was nowhere to be found… and yet… there was another. His mind recalled a plan he had set in motion. He set out to find our dear talented girl. The one with the incredible voice. 

-

It was easier than he thought, taking control of her body. He fled the hospital piloting her like a jaeger, drifting with her memories and finding his own. Yes, she was exactly the girl he had been waiting for on the Lacrosse field that night. 

Peter searched the woods for the Moon of his life in vain till a sense of preservation for the shell he was inhabiting made him steer her toward a group of officials before letting her take back the reins. He hid in the recesses of her mind, biding his time and waiting for opportunities to make himself known and gain her trust (if not her trust, her cooperation) so he could come back. It is not impossible... just because no one has heard of anyone doing it, doesn't mean he won't be able to.

So Peter waits... and schemes.


	3. Courting Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even someone as burned and dead on the inside as me knows better than to underestimate the simple, yet undeniable power, of human love."  
> -"Teen Wolf: Battlefield (#2.11)"

Part 3: Courting Death

Lydia proved to be very useful. She not only carried out all of his instructions to complete the little task of depositing his essence back into his newly revived body (Thank you so much for that, my dear); he also discovered within her, an uncanny knack of finding the dead (which brought him near his heart’s desire more than once during his stay in Lydia’s head). 

Somehow, at the moment of his reawakening, she knew he had come back. Peter fancied a walk in the forest now that he had his body back. The stream down the hill, though cold, cleansed away the dirt and ash of his long burial. As he walked out of the water she appeared before him, dropping theatrics and positively stomping over to him where she peered intently into his dripping, newly intact soul. 

“I believe I made you… a little more...” She pursed her lips in indignation as she waved one porcelain finger in the direction of all of him, “...dead.” She punctuated the last word with a poke directly in the center of his chest. 

Coming back from death seemed to be agreeing with him. Peter found her righteous indignation, incredibly endearing. He couldn’t be happier. Here he is, finally talking to the Moon of his life! Every moment of his existence (since first seeing her) had led him to this moment. 

“I heard there was a party.” He repeated the clever line he had rehearsed for his nephew and stifled a little laugh as it made her features pull into an exasperated pinch while she considered him. 

“Do you realize the level of difficulty you added to my job while you were alive? What am I supposed to do with you now that you’ve thwarted the system?” She wagged that finger in his face before starting to pace in front of him along the streambank. 

“I had to see you…” He hadn’t meant to spill that little bit of truth. It had quietly slipped out as his newly beating heart drummed a solo in her honor. 

She halted her progress and came back to the spot where he dripped on the bank, embarrassingly looking anywhere but her eyes. He noticed a gap in her black robe where a cool blue gown peeked through the folds; it was the same shade as moonlight on a layer of new snow at midnight. Her toes poked out from under the hem where they gripped the sand as she leaned toward him. She not-quite-so-delicately turned his face toward herself so she could peer up into his eyes. He was a few inches taller than her lean form but the full brunt of of those eyes staring directly into him, into his past, was almost too much to bear. They softened as she found evidence of his devotion to her.

“You knew who I was? You knew and you sought me out anyway?” Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion…and something else.

“Tell me your name.” After all this time, he simply had to know. He knew there was really no point in lying or manipulating death, his beloved will either return the feeling or not; let him live… or not. He had achieved his goal. Anything more is just a bonus. “Otherwise I will just continue to call you the Moon of my life.” 

That elicited a stifled snort. “Caesure. My name is Caesure” She pronounced each syllable of si-ZHur-ah, carefully as if she hadn’t heard her own name in a very very long time. “...and you, Pee-ter” She sure enjoyed pointing that finger at him. “No. More. Rampaging. I mean it. I’ve had quite enough of that around here as it is.” That tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

She pondered him a moment as she gathered her thoughts, still deciding what to do with him. “Hold on a minute. Stay right here.” She held both hands up as if to freeze him to the spot as she backed away. “There is something I need to do… Stay” With that she pulled her hood up and disappeared into the night. 

This time, her absence didn’t fill his heart with pain. He had spoken to her. She had been right there looking into his soul and she left him alive.

He lay out on a large flat boulder to dry. She would return. He just knew it. 

-

“False alarm! Some kid almost drowned.” He jumped slightly as Caesura’s return pulled him from the light doze he had slipped into as he lay there waiting. “Almost… What am I going to do about you…” She glanced to the stream as if considering drowning his newly revived sassiness but shook her head as she saw his expression. 

Peter could do nothing but look at her with reverent affection. She came back. He had never in his life seen her again so soon. 

“Look.” She started walking slowly toward the spot where he sat at the edge of the boulder on the streambank. “You really do need to stop murdering people. It is really bad for your soul.” She lifted one slender hand to his face when she reached him and rubbed a thumb just under one eye. She knew they would be blue now. After all, she changed that in him. He took a chance and leaned into the hand at his cheek. She held fast and considered him as he closed his eyes.

Her touch was soft and feather light, though it could be firm when she wanted it to. The jab she gave him in the chest earlier was anything but ethereal. She had no scent, which was beyond unnerving. He took another chance turning his face into her palm and licked the base of her thumb. 

“Akk!” she pulled away then to wave her hand around, “Seriously?” She raised an eyebrow at him as he opened one eye to peer at her. “You really are a puppy.” 

Funny enough, she didn’t taste like “death”.

“Death says ‘Akk’” His eyes crinkled at her. “You do know you touch dead people for a living.” He couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face. 

“Well you helped with quite a few of those, and I haven't heard you say you’ll stop that, now have I?” She put the offending hand on her hip. 

“You know I can’t promise to never kill again. I am a werewolf, we are predators. It is in our nature”

She gave him a look, then, that really reminded him of his sister.

“You may be a predator, but you don’t have to be a killer.” 

He shook his head. She would know Talia’s credo. It was good to hear it again. A tiny part of himself softened as he looked at Caesure, then. 

“Ok. No more rampaging. Only as a last resort, to save my life or another’s.”

She nodded decisively, “damn straight and don’t forget it” 

His face hurt from all the smiling he has been doing. If these were the last moments of his life, they are well spent discovering her. 

“Quit looking at me like that.” She leveled her gaze on him.

“Like what?” Every bit the face of innocence (if that could be believed for a moment coming from one such as Peter. 

“Like an adoring lover. It is making it very difficult to decide to expire you neatly as my nature is telling me to.”

“I don’t believe that will be possible, my dear.” He stood and walked toward her. “You have been my everything since the moment I first saw you.” His hand reached out to her, grasping that pointing finger she had left in the air. “You must know you are the reason I returned.” He opened her hand, curling back the fingers gently, placing it on his chest where his heart was happily beating a tattoo against it. Her contemplative expression gave nothing away, but she also didn’t pull the hand away. “Sure there are perks to being alive…” He snarked just to see her roll her eyes. “but my every design brought me to this moment.” He took a deep breath, deciding to literally place his fate in her hands. “If it is my last, so be it.” 

He leaned in slowly, tongue wetting his lip on the way. Time slowed down in that moment as their lips met. He had nearly expected hers to be cold as winter moonlight but they were warm and pliable against his own. He couldn’t help but breath one last breath while he memorized the feel of her as he drew her closer with his other hand. His eyes sprang open when her true scent made itself known to him from behind that cloak of hers. Her essence was green and fresh as a summer garden with a faint layer of warm ginger. He hummed as he drew in another breath deepening the kiss when she didn’t make any protest. She smelled like home to him. However the next moment went, he knew for sure that this is where he belonged. 

He leaned his forehead against hers when their lips parted at last. 

“I am still alive.” He whispered, looking through his eyelashes at her slightly dazed expression. 

“You..” she paused and pulled back just enough to better focus on his face and compose her features once more. She was creature to be feared and respected after all. “are very lucky you are a good kisser.”


End file.
